Sorting
by BadBugz
Summary: How did the Sorting of Minerva McGonagall go? Albus Dumbledore? The Marauders? Those and many more can and will be added at reveiwers' requests!


I had a really good one-shot plot bunny that I couldn't resist writing! I haven't read any like this one, but if I stole it from something, please let me know! Oh, and I forgot where the first years go after the boats and I can't find the first book, so I'm guessing. Tell me what you think. Please R&R  
  
^Thoughts^  
  
(Sorting Hat)  
  
The Sorting  
  
The boy watched the seemingly never-ending spires of the castle grow closer as his boat slowly drifted across the lake. The beauty of the castle transfixed even him, and for once he wasn't bouncing around, full of energy. He had given his boat-mates a glance, but they were not impressive enough to hold his attention for more than a moment.  
  
He was startled out of his thoughts when the boat bumped up against the far shore of the lake. He clumsily got out of it, never taking his eyes off the sight in front of him. Hogwarts really made a lovely scene, especially in the dark with the lights all lit up. He blindly followed the rest of the students. He didn't know who was leading them, but he didn't really care.   
  
As they filed into the castle doors, his face kept turning, as if he would never see this place again.   
  
^Don't be silly,^ he scolded himself. ^I'll be going here for the next seven years. I'm sure I'll get tired of it eventually.^ But his face and eyes never stopped roving about, drinking in the sight of the interior of his school.  
  
"Stop looking around so much," a big, burly boy whispered. "You act like you've never seen a magical building. And besides, you're making me dizzy."  
  
"I have too seen magical stuff!" he retorted. "Just nothing like this, it's *Hogwarts*," he said almost reverently. He glanced around. "What are we waiting here for, anyway?"  
  
The boy replied, "We are waiting for the teacher to escort us in, of course." He looked at the smaller boy beside him. "You sure you aren't muggleborn?"  
  
  
  
The boy shook his head fiercely and lifted it with pride. "I am not. I'm just, preoccupied. *I* am a-" He was cut off by the opening doors to the what he assumed to be the Great Hall, and a teacher emerging to shepard them all in. He just scowled at the bigger boy and majestically lead everyone into the Hall. He stopped as soon as he entered, though, and stared at the ceiling. It was like nothing he had ever seen before! It had been charmed to reciprocate what the weather was. He shook his head in wonder.  
  
The boy realized that he had stopped in the middle of the hallway and the others were filing past him. He turned and grinned sheepishly at the teacher, who was leading up the back with a disapproving expression on her face. He continued on, and saw the five tables. He felt a strange drawing, a yearning, from one of them, but shook it off when he saw the teacher who had led them in bring out a really old, patched-up hat and a stool. As the teacher set down the hat on the stool, he suffered no surprise, unlike most of the other kids when, it became animated and opened it's brim and sang.  
  
(Hello, all, and welcome back,   
  
To another year of school.  
  
And understand, little first years,  
  
That I am just the tool,  
  
That it used to Sort new kids,  
  
Who come here every year.  
  
Just put me on your head and  
  
Don't worry, there's nothing to fear!  
  
You may be destined if you are loyal,  
  
Patient and hard-working as well,  
  
To reside inside Hufflepuff,   
  
On you no time will tell!  
  
Or if instead, you seem to be,  
  
More of a studying fan,  
  
Then Ravenclaw is your house,  
  
Where learning and living go hand-in-hand!  
  
Then, of course, there is Slytherin,  
  
For those who wish to go far,  
  
Where only the most cunning of folks,  
  
Can survive with all of their parts!  
  
And last, but not least, there is Gryffindor,  
  
Where bravery is the game,  
  
Those with daring, nerve, and sport,  
  
Give good Gryffindor it's name!)  
  
The hat shut it's brim and returned to being a regular, if rather old, hat as the last of the song reverberated off of the high stone ceiling. Everyone clapped as the teacher the first years followed in, stepped up next to the hat and unraveled a scroll and started calling out names.  
  
However, the boy was not listening. He kept hearing the Sorting Song inside his head, and he was trying, unsuccessfully, to get rid of it. In desperation, he thought back to Hogwarts, and how awesome and inspiring it looked. He still felt that strange pull from a table, but he hadn't yet figured out which one. He didn't hear his name being called the first time, or the second. It was only when a girl nudged him that he snapped to attention in time to hear his name being called out for the third time, this time with more than a hint of annoyance and dislike.   
  
He hurried out of the crowd and walked as fast as he could towards the hat, while still keeping his dignity. Now was the time he had been waiting for since he could talk and comprehend speech, which had been from a surprisingly early age. However, he didn't want to disappoint anyone. ^What if I get Sorted into Slytherin?^ He asked himself as his head swirled. He invariably slowed as he reached the hat; it was only through immense control over himself that he picked up it up and slipped it over his head.  
  
(Ah, what do we have hear?) He heard a voice right next to his ear. He stiffened with fright as it continued, (Intelligence and wit in abundance, though I daresay that you are a little too rambunctious for the poor Ravenclaws, eh?) He relaxed and smirked. It was just the hat!   
  
(Not just any hat, young mister. I was once Godric Gryffindor's hat.) The boy chuckled quietly. He could imagine the hat puffed up to suit it's overlarge ego. ^Oh, is that it?^ he asked it. ^For a moment there I thought you were from someone important!^  
  
He laughed louder as the hat sputtered in shock. He didn't care if having a conversation with the hat was unconventional, it was fun!   
  
(Alright, then. Shall I just put you in Slytherin, then?)   
  
His eyebrows shot up and he opened his mouth in horror. ^No! Please don't joke like that! I mean, it's a really great honor to meet a real life relic from the great Gryffindor!^ he stammered.  
  
The hat chuckled, if a hat could laugh, that is. (Actually, it is not such a bad idea,) it mused. (You have plenty of cunning, and quite a lot of power. Your mind thinks in calculating ways, you will develop the arts of strategy and subtlety. You could do well, very well in Slytherin indeed. But,) it hesitated as the child denied every word coming from it's mouth, well except the part about power, but still. (But you could also get on well in Griffindor. Hufflepuff is not really an option for you now, though that may change in time. Gryffindor, though. Yes. You have plenty of courage, but know how to save your own skin and come out blameless. Quite a combination, eh?)   
  
The boy trembled. He knew it was going to put him in Slytherin, he just knew it.  
  
(Slytherin would suit you very well, however,) it stopped, then went on reluctantly. (Not many know this, but I have a small gift of what you might call the Sight. I can See important events that you must be in, and different Houses could change the events, which could prove catastrophic. Therefore, the only choice for you would be,)  
  
(GRYFFINDOR!)  
  
The boy sat on the stool stunned as one of the tables exploded into cheers. He had been so sure that he was going to be a Slytherin. He proudly looked down at his robes, they now sported a Griffindor lion on them. He slowly stood up and just as he reached up to take the hat off, he heard the hat's parting remarks,  
  
(You will be very important someday, just for now, while you can, have fun, Albus Dumbledore.)  
  
Albus Dumbledore gently set the hat on the stool, than ran off to find a seat at his new table. As he sat down, he realized that though it had not been this table that was calling to him, it was close enough, and he was satisfied. Now that he had been Sorted and was a certified member of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, he finally allowed himself to feel the emotion that he had kept at bay ever since he had laid eyes on the beautiful castle. That feeling was a sense of rightness, like he was home at last. 


End file.
